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Chapter 5 - Conversation

  Chapter 5 - Conversation

  The world feels more real now—sharper, clearer, like a change I can’t quite define. I’m still adjusting, still piecing together everything that’s changed. But before I can settle into those thoughts, a familiar voice calls out, warm yet commanding.

  “Welcome, Vala, my beautiful granddaughter. I have questions for you later, but… clothing comes first.”

  I glance at my grandmother, now back in her disguised form, her presence as calm as ever. A thought surfaces. Thanks, Grandma, but compared to Skuld, I’m not at her level yet. What would she think of me now?

  She gives me a familiar, knowing smirk—one that looks out of place on Grandma’s face. “It’s probably a little confusing, honey buns, but Skuld and I are the same. So naturally, when I say you’re beautiful, that applies to her too.” Her laugh is soft, but something else rests in her eyes, a quiet understanding that feels too vast to grasp all at once.

  I shake my head. “It feels… different.”

  Mom glances over, curiosity in her expression. Through our bond, I notice something held back, emotions pressed beneath the surface, poised to spill over the moment I push. I press against that barrier, and suddenly, they crash into me—guilt, sadness, relief, love.

  It’s a lot. Not in a way that crushes me, but in a way that forces me to see just how much she’s been carrying. I don’t question it. I step in and wrap my arms around her, holding her close.

  “So, um… love you, Mom. Just wanted you to know.”

  She smiles, easing into my embrace. “Thanks, Vala, and I love you too. This will take time, but I can already see my features and Riho’s in you. You truly are our daughter, and a beautiful girl.”

  She pauses, her expression softening, a warmth in her eyes that catches me off guard. “I suspected it when I saw the girl in the mirror, but you really did take the best of our features.”

  Her warm enthusiasm throws me—I’m not used to her being this expressive. She glances toward the corner of the room before motioning for me to follow. “Come with me. I picked up a few things that should fit. It’s not much—just a simple dress and some ladies underwear, but it’ll do for now.”

  Women’s underwear. That’s… new. My mind drifts from the briefs I’m used to wearing to something I’ve only ever seen in clothing stores. It’s different, yet somehow not. Like this body came with an understanding of how these things work.

  Mom grabs a couple of shopping bags, somehow spared from the damage in the room. The same can’t be said for the bed or the space around it. I take in the mess—I wasn’t aware of what was happening during the change, but there’s no doubt it wasn’t peaceful.

  I glance at Mom, giving her a sheepish smile. She meets it with a light laugh and a sigh, her gaze drifting over the room.

  I pull the sheets tighter around me, realizing just how little they cover. Standing here, mostly naked, I focus on anything else—this new body, the way I now have to look up at Mom instead of down. Everything feels foreign: height, strength, even the way I move.

  Even as I take it all in, I notice the way my family watches me—curious, a little hesitant. I told Mom I was still me, but the way she looks at me now, it’s like she’s seeing someone new. Not in a bad way, just… another thing to get used too.

  If the old me woke up naked in front of my family, I would have died of embarrassment. And I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be smiling at me like this.

  I like myself more since the change, and it seems like they do too. Following Mom, I push that thought aside—it’s too much to untangle right now. We’re headed to my room, and whatever’s in those bags has to be better than this.

  Mom pulls out a simple white cotton T-shirt dress with a small floral motif embroidered near the hem. It’s shaped like a long T-shirt—maybe snug, hopefully comfortable. The fabric feels soft and slightly stretchy, and the flowers add a delicate touch, making it feel a bit more special.

  She sets another bag on the bed, and I glance inside. An assortment of bras and underwear—my first time actually needing any of this. My face warms as I pull out a plain white sports bra and matching underwear, running my fingers over the fabric.

  Mom stays beside me, silent but present. I hesitate before speaking. “Mom… would you mind turning around?” I ask, looking away.

  Her smile softens, and she nods, turning her back to give me privacy.

  “Of course. Take your time.”

  I slip into the bra, fumbling with the fit—a mix of trial and error. It’s strange, snug in ways I’m not used to, like a second layer I haven’t quite figured out yet. After a few moments, I glance over my shoulder. “Okay… I think I’ve got it.”

  She turns back, giving me an approving look. “It looks good,” she says. “If you want to make it a bit more comfortable, try adjusting like this.”

  Before I can react, she reaches in, lifting my chest slightly, smoothing the fabric at the sides.

  I freeze. My brain chooses to play dead instead of processing what just happened.

  “There you go, much better,” she says, completely unfazed. “I’m sure it feels more comfortable this way. You did well for your first attempt. I’ll show you little tricks like this as you get used to things.”

  The warm, supportive moment slams into the undeniable reality of what just unfolded. I blink.

  “Mom, I have absolutely no idea how to feel about this.”

  “Yes?” She smiles, a playful look in her eyes—one I’ve never seen before. Is this a new personality? Or have I just never seen this side of her?

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  She gestures for me to keep going. “Now, adjust the straps so they sit higher on your shoulders. And the band—make sure it feels secure without being too tight. It’ll feel more natural in time.”

  I nod, still wrapping my head around it, but do as she says. The encouragement makes it easier—like this is something I can grow into.

  Once I’m ready, I pick up the dress. It’s simple—just slip it on like a long T-shirt—but for some reason, I hesitate.

  “You alright, Vala?” Mom asks, giving me a knowing look. “First time wearing a dress? It might take some getting used to, but you’ll get there.”

  I blink, snapping out of it. “…Help with this, please?”

  She doesn’t hesitate, taking the dress and slipping it over my head with practiced ease. Her hands move smoothly, guiding the fabric into place like she’s done this a hundred times before. A strand of hair snags on the neckline, and she gently pulls it free, letting it fall back over my shoulders.

  I watch our reflections in the mirror—her adjusting the hem while I stand there, looking like I’m waiting for a final inspection. The sight makes me smile. Different or not, I guess I pass.

  The dress is modest and a bit loose, but comfortable enough. I’ll need a whole new wardrobe anyway, so this is just something to wear for now until I figure out what actually feels like me.

  Ready to move past the whole clothes-and-hair ordeal, I turn to Mom with a smile.

  She smiles back, pulling me into a quick hug before letting go. “You’re definitely a beautiful girl, Vala.”

  The word catches me off guard, and I feel my eyebrow lift slightly. Beautiful. Not something I’m used to hearing about myself. But coming from her now… it’s not bad.

  Maybe… it even feels nice.

  I glance up and catch a softness in her expression. It’s like I’m seeing a side of her I haven’t before—gentler, more open. And she’s looking at me the same way, like she’s rediscovering me just as much as I am.

  “When you’re ready, we have some things to talk about,” she says. “You mentioned some interesting things earlier, and I’d like to hear more—if you’re up for it. Would you join us for coffee, or do you want some time alone?”

  Her offer feels genuine—no pressure, just an open invitation. I give her a small nod, sensing something shifting between us.

  “Coffee sounds good,” I say. “Thanks, Mom. Could you make me a cup?”

  She nods, a faint smile forming—something easier, more natural than before. “Of course. Join us in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

  I sit on the bed, knees together in the dress. The motion feels natural—thankfully. There’s a calmness in me, steadier than I expected. Maybe it’s my ice attributes at work. Another piece of information surfacing. Mother Riho carries that same composure… maybe our affinities influence more than just our abilities.

  With everything I’ve learned, there’s still too much I don’t know. It’s that old cliché—the more I understand, the more I realize I don’t. The answers aren’t here, but maybe they’re downstairs. At the very least, coffee is. And maybe a few answers from my family… though I have a feeling I’ll be the one doing most of the explaining.

  Leaving my room, I head to the dining table, spotting Mom in the kitchen. She’s focused on the coffee, but the scent draws me in. The familiar aroma drifts over, richer, deeper—layers I hadn’t noticed before. The earthy bitterness stands out, each note more distinct than I remember.

  I take the same chair as yesterday, my fingers drifting over the white tablecloth, tracing the embroidered flower motif. The chair feels bigger, my line of sight lower. When Mom gently places a mug of coffee in front of me, it looks almost comically large.

  “Sorry, Mom, could I get a smaller cup? I’m having trouble holding this one.” It’s not heavy, just… awkward. My chest, now an unexpected obstacle, puts the dress in coffee danger. Leaning forward isn’t as easy anymore; my center of gravity has definitely shifted.

  “Yes, of course, um… Sweetheart?”

  Wow. “Thanks, Mom.”

  There were always going to be changes, but I wasn’t expecting this. It’s nice, just… different. She pours the mug into two smaller cups, taking one for herself and handing me the other.

  I look up at the sound of footsteps entering the room. “Morning, Grandma.”

  “Good morning, Vala. Skuld says good morning too,” she replies, a hint of mirth in her eyes. There’s something comforting in the way she smiles, and I feel a bit embarrassed but smile back.

  “Good morning to you too, Skuld. And… sorry, but there’s this weird disconnect in my head between you and her,” I admit, glancing down before looking back up. “I know, intellectually, it’s just a disguise—but she’s way cooler than you.” I try on the same smirk I’ve seen Skuld wear before, hoping I’ve got it right.

  She chuckles, the sound easy and familiar. “I’m just teasing, honey buns. Your reactions are cute,” she says, her expression amused. “But on a serious note, how are you?”

  Mentally, I’m… calm? Excited, but not as much as I expected. Physically, I feel strong and fit, but the small things still throw me off. Mostly, I’m sorting through everything from the awakening. Speaking of which…

  “Mother says hi and wants you to visit her soon.”

  Mom stills for a moment. “Mother? As in Riho?” She exhales lightly. “That’s not possible, sweetheart. I’m sorry, but you must have been confused during the ceremony. We can’t speak to the dead directly—they’re in another place.”

  “I get it, Mom… This might be hard to believe, but the Riho you knew—she was a shrine maiden, right?”

  She pauses, her gaze dipping slightly. “She was, yes… We met at the shrine and became friends. And over time… it became more.”

  “It’s hard to prove since it happened in a dream. It was nice, but at first, I thought I’d died—which was terrifying. Meeting the mother I thought was gone… She’s tall, about 5’9”, with a build similar to mine, but her chest is like yours, Mother. Long dark hair, dark eyes, familiar features, calm. She likes hugging me from behind.”

  Mom looks thoughtful. “That’s a very accurate description of Riho, but… it was a dream. It could be nothing more.”

  “Do you remember how I introduced myself when I first emerged?”

  “Vala. You called yourself Vala. Was that part of the awakening?”

  “Close… It was given by Mother Riho. She’s in another place, but she created a dreamscape for us—for my future training.”

  “Mist, Vala’s right. Freyja just told me she’s working with Riho on a project. They’re both sorry about the situation but are restricted for now. The good news is, it’ll be resolved, and we’ll meet up in the future.”

  I watch Mother take this in, her hands trembling slightly, though she keeps herself composed.

  I sip my coffee, letting the moment stretch as I piece everything together. It still doesn’t make much sense.

  Grandma looks like she’s about to say something but stops. Guess it’s my turn.

  “So… Mother Riho is Kuraokami’s daughter?”

  Mom gives me a strange look, clearly trying to process that.

  “Not your fault, Mom. Just… please, don’t pray to another goddess for me. Mother Riho seemed determined. Enthusiastic, even. I have a suspicion she’s… what’s the word? Possessive? Not in a bad way, just… she doesn’t seem like the type to share.”

  “Got it. Freyja’s fine, just not when it comes to you.”

  She exhales, shaking her head slightly. “Riho…” Mother murmurs, her gaze distant, as if piecing together a realization. “If you’re truly a pure Divine dragon…” She trails off, a thoughtful smile crossing her face. “Well, that would explain some of your… intense nature.” Her eyes meet mine, a trace of humor flickering behind them.

  “Huh? Oh. Right—Kuraokami, dragon god of winter… Sorry, when I met Mom, she was in human form, so I didn’t make the connection. That’s kind of cool. So, I’m a Valkyrie but also part dragon?”

  Watching Mother’s expression change is interesting, but the smirk on Grandma’s face is even more telling. Judging by her expression, she’s clearly entertained.

  I clear my throat, refocusing the conversation. “Mother Riho named me herself. Grandma was named Skuld, and you, Mom, were named Mist by Freyja. I was given the name Vala, and once my power develops, I’ll be the seventh named among the Valkyries.”

  I pause before adding, “Kuraokami… or rather, Mother Riho, was the one who gave me that name. I’m not sure how that works exactly, but Grandfather seems to leave everything about me to her. My name was given to make one thing clear—who I belong to.”

  Mom doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she studies me, her expression unreadable, like she’s working through something. But she isn’t disagreeing.

  Family can be… complicated.

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